She
by morph
Summary: Rose suffers through a bad period. Set during the 10th Doctor era but no particular time in the series. Part of my TARDIS 100 series. TARDIS POV. One Shot.


AN/ **Warning: This fic is about a topic that some people may find uncomfortable: female periods. You don't have to read this if you are squicked by that.** Part of my TARDIS 100 series, so it's in the TARDIS POV. Set somewhere during the 10th Doctor era, but no specific time. The BBC owns everything Doctor Who. The musical of Les Mis is owned by Victor Hugo, Claude-Michel Schönberg and Alain Boublil.

For Bindi; the Little Cosette, chain gang prisoner and beggar to my Bishop's sister, nun and street women. We both know how lovely Jean Valjean was, and that sometimes it sucks being a girl.

* * *

When people refer to me, they call me many different things; the TARDIS, the ship, it, home, her. Some like to think of me as female. I suppose if I had a more organic form it would be female. I certainly share many characteristics with women, particularly Earth women. However, there is one female symptom that I, for better or for worse, don't get.

It was one of the ways Rose marked the passage of time. I know that time travel re-arranges your internal clock. Days become minutes, years become seconds. But at least Rose had one semi-reliable way of telling how many months she had been travelling with the Doctor.

It can be called a blessing and a curse. It tells a woman when she's fertile. Its absence is a tell-tale sign of pregnancy. It can be unpredictable, showing up either right on time or when you least expected it. The hormones that trigger it make a mess of your emotions and moods.

He didn't get it. It was solely hers.

And this particular month, it was bad.

Rose was not happy. The cramps woke her up from the middle of a good dream about dancing to Glenn Miller music. She was not pleased to discover she had to change not only her nickers, but her pyjama bottoms and the sheets as well. She was sulking over a cup of tea in the kitchen when the Doctor found her.

"Hello, Rose! Did you have a good nap?"

The Doctor obviously didn't catch the surge of ill-feeling towards him that came from Rose's direction. He was a happy male. That was enough for her right then. I caught Rose's thoughts loud and clear. I tried to warn the Doctor about it but his mind wasn't focused.

"No," was Rose's broody reply.

The Doctor's grin faltered. "Oh. Well…um…did you feel like going anywhere?"

"No."

He should have gotten the hint, but he pressed on. "You sure? Cos I know this little planet that has some _fantastic _beaches."

I could see Rose's thoughts turned to the Doctor's previous form. It was the word "fantastic" that had triggered it. She still missed him. I couldn't blame her. I watched as she suppressed her thoughts and memories. They weren't helping her mood.

The Doctor was digging himself into a deeper and deeper metaphorical hole. "You could break out that new bikini if you wanted to."

Unbeknownst to him, I knew that Rose was feeling bloated and crampy. No girl wants to wear a swimsuit when she's feeling like that.

"No, thank you," Rose mumbled as politely as she could given the circumstances.

The Doctor frowned. "You all right?"

Rose finally snapped. "I'm _fine_!" She grabbed her mug of tea and headed for the door. I saw in her mind a clear destination: her room, her DVD player, and a box set of old soap operas.

The Doctor blinked his eyes, puzzled by his companion's behaviour. "What's wrong with her?" he muttered to himself.

I took it upon myself to answer his question. _"It's her time."_

It took a few more seconds, but at last the penny dropped. "Oh."

The Doctor bit his lip, thinking for a few moments. I had to prod his mind a few times, but eventually he came up with an idea. He parked me in a small city, popped into a few shops and was back in no time with a few select gifts for Rose. These included chocolate, a water bottle in a cute, soft, fuzzy holder and a DVD.

Rose accepted the gifts, particularly the chocolate, with a smile. The Doctor was forgiven for being a male and not having to suffer through what she and just about every other girl suffered through every month. She was slightly puzzled by his choice of DVD.

"Les Misérables?"

He smiled. "It's a great musical. Classic."

"Yeah, I know. I saw it on the tellie once with mum," Rose said.

"Ah. Well _this_ one has hot guys in it."

She smiled cheekily and laughed. "Surely that's not why you got it for me."

"Well…I like little Cosette," the Doctor admitted.

"_Little_ Cosette?"

The Doctor shrugged. "She's kinda cute in this."

Rose gave him a shove.

The Doctor laughed, then turned serious. "I think I know what you're going through now."

She smiled tightly and shook her head. "No, you don't."

I had to agree with her. I let him know that if I _wanted_ to, I could give him the mental equivalent of the menstrual experience. He winced.

"Well, perhaps not," he admitted. "But I _do_ know what a bloody mess it makes of you."

Rose made a face. I knew from her thoughts that she was trying not to laugh. "You did _not_ just say that. That is _such_ a bad line."

The Doctor grinned. He hadn't caught the accidental pun right away, but now he did. They shared a laugh.

Rose reminded him that he was extremely lucky that I was well stocked with all the necessary female sanitary supplies. It was the Doctor's habit of picking up female companions that forced me to become so well stocked. The Doctor had to agree with her. Overthrowing a tyrannical government or saving the Earth from a hostile alien invasion was easy for him, but picking out the right type of pad and/or tampon? That was a whole different ball of wax.

Looking back on them now makes me want to smile. She was lucky he was hers.


End file.
